


Of Trust and Tenderness (Otherwise known as Love)

by 1V1



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Body Worship, Coming Untouched, Emotional Constipation, F/M, Feelings Realization, Intimacy, Mentions of sex trafficking and rape, Multi, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Reader-Insert, Tenderness, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27600860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1V1/pseuds/1V1
Summary: Hired to kill a demon that might be preying on victims of sex trafficking cruise-liner, Dante and Vergil need a way to infiltrate the ship without arousing suspicion. You're not quite a friend, not a stranger, but you're trusted enough, you need money enough, to agree.Soon things get out of hand. Soon Dante and Vergil realize the weight of your trust, the trust you placed in their hands, as they walked you into danger, into darkness and depravity. It is a heavy weight and a heavier cost. Because while you handed them your trust, unwittingly, they handed you their own.And it might just be enough to destroy them entirely.
Relationships: Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader, Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Reader
Comments: 33
Kudos: 167





	Of Trust and Tenderness (Otherwise known as Love)

**Author's Note:**

> As a warning, this fic mentions and deals with the concept of sex trafficking, exploitation, and abuse, as well as rape. This includes a mention of child sexual victims. Nothing is detailed or graphic but you've been warned.

It stared with a request.

Wasn’t that how most things with the two Sparda boys went? You knew them only because you lived and worked relatively close to their ‘business’ which as far as you were concerned, was absolutely insane but actually kind of needed- especially given the business of demon trees, hell gates, and just general end of the world events that cropped up every so often. And hey- at the very least, being nearby also was nice because if anything DID happen, one of them tended to be around and would take care of the ‘issue’.

That being said.

It was Dante who asked you- help them infiltrate a rich elite social group that was going out on a cruise so they could hunt down a demon they’d been contracted to kill. In exchange, they’d pay you a nice sum of money. It was a bit out of the blue, you knew them not as friends per say, (especially not when it came to Vergil), but you were fairly well acquainted with them. Amicable. Sociable. They’d come over and buy things from your corner market grocer, make small talk. Sometimes you’re run into them at the bar nearby after work hours- share a drink and chat. Not friends but close. Close enough.

Close enough to ask a favor. It was your own fault for saying yes however.

What Dante hadn’t told you was the ‘rich elite social circle’ was for a bunch of perverts on a sex cruise to trade partners and possibly selling sex slaves and a bunch of other illegal morally repugnant things. Vergil had been the one to explain, in mortifying detail, just what the request Dante made in vivid detail. 

The demon they’d been contracted to kill had abducted a young man who’d been seeing an older man- one who frequented these events. Last the man had been seen had been getting on the ship- but never getting off. Dante and Vergil’s patron had done their research, finding out the young man wasn’t the only one- a lot of young people were abducted, brought on, and then just… never got off. There wasn’t even a transport that might have hinted as human trafficking. It was just flatly like they vanished at sea.

The demon came into the picture when their patron found out that the other part of the sex party involved demon rituals and the abductions all had demon sigils near where they’d last been spotted. So you know. A good ol time of demons and fucking. Just another day you guessed when it came to the twin devil hunters. To Dante’s credit at least he DID tell you that their patron planned to expose everything once the demons were dealt with. 

How did you fit all into this?

While Dante and Vergil could get on with their forged IDs and fake credentials, everyone was expected to show up with a partner. Or in your case, partners. The twins wanted you to ‘act’ as their sex pet, shared between them. The taboo of incest hinted of but never spoken, the debauchery of sharing a lover who was beholden to twins- the kind of thing that made rich perverts interested and willing to overlook other things, like the fact the twins always looked ready to fight at a moment’s notice. 

Thank god Lady had gotten wind of their plan because she blessedly flipped the script. You were the rich new money woman and your bodyguards did just that in and out of the bedroom. The same kind of shit just without you needing to be in a bunny suit thank fuck.

Fast forward, you still agreed to help because you were a sucker for Dante’s beaten puppy look and honestly you needed the money. Now, dressed in a little black cocktail dress, two half devil men behind you playing the role of bodyguards, you forced your best customer service smile at the man who was older enough to be your father. The man who was trying to get you to agree to sleep with his pet who was ‘freshly acquired’ and from what you could tell probably not even legal.

You really had to bite back the vomit that came up your throat.

The party itself was the kind of thing you read about in conspiracy theory sites. Rich old men who had youthful blood injections to stay healthy. People kept in cages and forced to have sex against their will with strangers. Children-  
Vergil and Dante looked ready to murder- their demon target be damned.

You thanked them silently when they led you away from the worst of it, shielding your vision from things that would scar your mind otherwise. Above deck there was less obscene and more sensual. Half naked women and men serving drinks and decadent treats. Talks of business and politics. You smiled, pretended, and managed to even slightly flirt with a few people, fishing for information on the demon rituals and possible ‘sacrifices’. Most patrons of the ship smiled at told you it was for veterans, for those truly wicked- and a smaller group told you that ‘those’ sorts of things happened at the end of the party below deck. 

“You’re flush.” Vergil had been the one to surprisingly be the most protective of you- putting himself between you and men who got too close or tried to touch you without permission. He also had beforehand agreed- He’d not leave your side and Dante could be the one to wander and gather intel, being the more social of them. It was a comfort- both men had sworn you’d never be left alone the entire night, and neither would allow any harm or sexual assault to happen. You believed them- after all, they might have been your neighbors but you’d seen them take on a demon before. 

Watching a man get stabbed through then walk it off kind of helped reaffirm that if things did happen, they’d be able to handle it.

To Vergil’s comment however you just blushed and nodded. The woman who’d you’d been speaking to prior was now openly stroking her own lover’s cock- a man in a gimp suit fashioned to look like a cat. To each their own.   
“I’m fine.” Vergil’s hard eyes bore down on you and you could understand his look well enough. He didn’t believe you. Not that you could blame him. Half the night you’d practically clung to his arm, thumb rubbing small circles into the dark brocade fabric that made up his costume. You wanted to fidget but you had to hide it- so all night you’d just been exceptionally handsy with him. Any other time he’d probably have flung you away at disgust from being touched- it was only the situation that made him abide it or so you told yourself.

If only you knew the truth.

The truth was the vast opposite. Rather than fling you away, Vergil had to fight the urge to drag you closer. His hands itched to circle your waist, tugging you to his side and make you fit there, pulling you with him as he walked and letting no one even have the slightest chance to touch you let alone speak to you without first facing off against him.

He told himself it was just the situation, just his devil instincts playing against the scent of sex and breeding around him. That his libido was working in tandem with his devil nature, making him crave a female of his own and you happened to be oh so pointedly by his side, touching him, within reach.

He had to swallow when he’d look to you, so demure and pink when asked to join in the debauched revelry, shying away as it was ‘your first time at these sorts of events’. He had to bite his tongue each time your hands slipped to his arm, fingers rubbing and caressing him through the fabric, making a part of him to yearn for it to be gone just so he could savor the feeling of the soft pads of your fingers on his bare skin.

He’d promised you that no harm or sexual assault would happen and he stood by that. But damn him for it- he’d never thought he’d have to start worrying about his own willpower and resisting the urge to have you himself.

“Sorry.” You voice was a whisper, too soft for the crowd, but loud enough for his ears. “I know you don’t like to be touched.” Your fingers clenched the fabric on his arm and he wished he could roll up his sleeves- “You must be uncomfortable.” Yet even as you said it you didn’t stop and while Vergil would normally say you were right?   
He also was nothing if not greedy. He chose to say nothing instead to rather soak up your timid touches and try to placate himself with the reminder that this was an act, a ruse. This was nothing but a farce to mask his and Dante’s true objective.

Another approached you and him, and instinctively, you leaned into the man by your side, who postured, every inch the supposed ‘lover/bodyguard’ he was supposed to be. 

“He’s so… dangerous.” The man purred, making your hair stand on end. “You mind?” The man motioned to Vergil’s torso, and you followed his gaze.

Vergil was dressed in a tantalizing number. Dark black dress pants with an equally dark blue brocade shirt that cut a V from neck to navel. The line of pale skin over defined muscle and sinew offering the allure of strength you knew he possessed far beyond what a normal man might ever acquire. His look completed by the golden chain necklace with an O ring in the center- he was supposed to be ‘owned’ after all. 

“…” You hesitated, and Vergil cursed you for it. Your hands hovered at the shirt’s trim, as if waiting for his permission to open it further- he’d given it to you earlier in the night- before the three of you’d arrived; his full permission to touch him as required but this was just like you. Too courteous, too aware of his preferences and wishing to obtain consent for even the slightest intimacy. 

Such kindness had no place here.

“Young miss.” Vergil bowed his head in mock difference, a silent look to you letting you see and know- he was alright, would be alright. He’d given you permission, hadn’t he? His hands pulled his shirt further open, gloved hand grabbing your own to pull it to his mouth- a gentleman’s kiss before letting it rest against his pec, over his heart. A romantic gesture, it made the other man smile and lick his lips at the display.

You tensed when Vergil took charge, when he displayed himself a little more, when he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, (the red on your cheeks barely hidden in the night glow, unseen but noticed by his devil blue eyes), and your hand warm on his heated skin. Greedy he mused to himself, he was greedy as he felt you accept the action, falling back into your mask and role, flirting with the stranger and praising Vergil on his physique and sexual prowess. Your hand petting him, stroking over the curves of muscle, tracing the lines of his chest and your fingers playfully dancing over a nipple that was hard in the cool ocean air.

Vergil was greedy and wished you’d kept touching him so after the man walked off with his own pets in tow. He hated touch normally but this? Your tender touch born with such trepidation, such reluctance and desire for his permission, his consent- there was something heady in it. Something utterly delectable in your face as you looked at him for assurance, that this was okay, that your hand on his skin was permissible, that it was acceptable.

It thrilled him in a way he couldn’t put to words. 

Maybe it was his fault, maybe it was your own, but one of the hosts of the ‘party’- the wife of a rich politician and an actress herself approached and without even allowing either you or your escort a chance to decline- 

“So me and the others decided- you and your boys will be tonight’s show.” 

Vergil could practically feel your body run cold as dread bloomed inside you. To your credit you didn’t recoil or clench your hand into his shirt, you didn’t flinch. No, he mused, you smiled, giggling and telling the woman you handn’t planned on it.

“Oh but you will love it!” The woman winked. “Newcomers are always a delight and consider it a bit of a welcoming ritual. You and your pets play while everyone watches then-“ the woman licked her lips, trying to be sensual but coming off too strong, “then we all join in and play together.” Vergil remained silent as the interaction drew on. You wanted to know more- where and when? How many would watch? Were their rules? Limits? Did they need to ‘prep’ for anything and- 

“I admit,” You bowed your head, demure and shy, “This being my first time I’m not sure I feel… open to sharing. Not myself at least. My boys yes but I am… selective.” The woman nodded as if understanding.  
“That’s fine and perfectly alright darling. Pets are pets- but we don’t want a guest to feel pressured or forced. That’s not the point of these parties after all! It’s all about having fun and enjoying what we shouldn’t.”

Vergil wished he could kill everyone on the ship and call it a night but he and Dante had agreed to their contract, no killing humans just the demon and leaving the evidence for the police.   
Mentally, he just was keeping a list until the contract was done so he could kill on his own time. Dante always had reservations about killing humans but frankly he didn’t. Especially not when it involved these crimes and perversions. 

In the end the woman set the time and place, leaving you and Vergil to try and find Dante before the appointed hour to somehow make a game plan. The twins had come to hunt demons and you’d come as their cover and diversion. None of you had come to partake in any sexual activities. 

Even if both Sparda twins had their own little imaginings of your writhing under them. 

Vergil told himself it was all situational. That under any normal circumstance he’d never give you the time of day let alone permission to be so close. He’d never allow you to touch him without recourse. Yet as you bit your bottom lip without thinking, making it grow plump under your worrying teeth he wanted to allow it and more. He wanted to have you touching him, caressing him and under him. A courteous and demure lover, so pretty and shy as he’d have his way and his fill. Maybe you were not like that at all but it was a nice though he mused. The notion that you would be so placating and willing to yield here when you shouldn’t- perhaps your true self was fiery and bratty behind closed doors. He yearned to find out.

He also couldn’t help the smug satisfaction of seeing the annoyance and anger on Dante’s face when he caught sight of the pair of you. His open shirt, your hand on his chest and leaning into him like he was a toy, like he was a lover- the hate in Dante’s eyes was for him and Vergil relished in it. 

The conversation was quiet, the men able to more communicate to each other while you lay between them, caressing their skin and playing in their hair. Every inch the young rich heiress who was enjoying her first time at a criminal sexy party. Vergil did his best not to lean into your touches, to tilt his body towards your gentle and soft hands seeking their warmth. But he loved what he got- each caress a breath, a ghost on his skin. A tantalizing hint of what else could be had. Featherlight, a promise of more, the illusion of desire and decadent delights to come. Vergil and Dante could hear and notice more than the humans around them, and the elder Sparda twin couldn’t deny the smirk when you leaned to press yourself into his side, breasts plush on his arm as a leg lifted out to playfully drag over Dante’s thighs.

Dante, who had spent the night gathering intel and probably the reason you three had been volunteered for the public spectacle. He wasn’t ashamed of himself, of his body and scars- he flirt easily, and he smiled with a devil’s grin. It was easy to get what he needed from a number of people. And while they all disgusted him, and he felt his skin crawling when they pet him, when they touched him, he bore it. He found out about the demon ritual- it was the same one you three had been volunteered for. He’d boasted of your ability to satisfy two men at once, and the fact he and his bother had ‘less reservations about intimacy’ than other siblings might, (he’d almost choked saying it).

It got him and Vergil into the demon summoning site sure, but now they’d need to figure out a way to lure out said demon, keep you safe, and, not give away their actual purpose or tip off the humans that they planned to out the whole damn ship for their sins. 

But the red coated devil was only half thinking- the other half was fixed on you. The way you moved just so- dress riding up to bare to him soft and supple thighs, perfect to fit around a man’s waist. Your legs which were smooth, freshly waxed, long and oh so delightfully rubbing over his own, so near his growing arousal. Your ass lifted, the curve and shape of it practically shoved in his face, as if begging to be spread open and tasted, stretched, filled, spanked. 

Your gasp as his free hand slid over to caress your bottom made his blood burn, and his ego swell when it was Vergil’s turn to look sour. Yet you didn’t push him away, you didn’t deny his touch. You allowed it, melted further into the space between him and his brother, tugging them both closer to hear their whispers, to act like a coy lover with her pets when in fact as you spoke of how to possibly trigger a fire alarm and set a trap showing your resourcefulness, your adaptiveness. 

Dante wasn’t sure what was sexier. The fact you kept wiggling and rubbing your bottom into his hand and it’s grip, or, how you kept worrying your lip, making it red and swollen, begging to be kissed and sucked. From the way Vergil’s gaze lingered there too, Dante was very certain he shared at least one taste with his brother.

In the end, there wasn’t much that could be done to avoid the situation. To get into the rooms, you’d have to be escorted, and the ‘viewers’ would already be present. Unless Dante or Vergil wanted to risk the humans jumping ship and escaping police custody or worse, getting killed before justice could be found, something would need to happen to at least stall.

“Sorry babe.” Dante tried to hide his enjoyment at watching you squirm in your seat, (also his hand). “We won’t… force anything or you know-“

“There will be no penetration.” Vergil spoke it so factually, so detached from the acts which could otherwise take place. “However… we might need to touch each other intimately or show affection for a time.” Ice blue eyes met Dante’s own fire laced ones. “You will be compensated of course for this lack of foresight.”

“What he said.”

Such assurances.

In truth, Dante was fairly certain that things would escalate and become a shit show- no matter what they planned the demon was predictable, it was the humans that were not. Heavy petting and kissing could only stall for so long and while he wouldn’t say no to sex, consent on equal grounds was needed before he’d even be able to get hard and stomach it. 

“Dante.” His brother’s voice broke his thoughts and he looked at his twin. “Having second thoughts?” The way Vergil moved his body to encircle their mutual date set Dante’s teeth on edge. While he certainly wound never press or force any sexual favors, he also had a lot less moral hang ups when it came to consent and well- He watched in admit jealousy as his brother’s fingers trailed over your bare shoulder, playing with a few loose strands of hair.  
Vergil was nothing if not a possessive asshole. If they did end up needing to fuck he knew that Vergil would keep everyone away from you if only because he’d not stomach the idea of sharing or allowing anything the man decided he had a claim to. 

“If we do end up having to fuck-“ Your face bloomed pink at the words, “-we have to be able to agree on a signal that it’s too far and the plan is null. There’s no point in anything if we end up…” He must have made a face as you reached out, a gentle hand resting on his arm, tugging him closer to you. He followed you pull, crawling over your body till he was above you, face level with your chest and it hit him just how intimate the position was.

“I-“ You whispered just loud enough for his ears to pick up, “-I know what the risk is. What might happen.” His eyes found your own and he could feel his cock practically turn to steel with the look there, the firm resolution, the fire. “And if we hit that the plan is to kill the demon. I know your client doesn’t want the humans hurt but-“ Oh.

_Oh._

He really was turned on now. The hatred, the disgust and bloodlust on your features was something new, something he didn’t want to see but was. Your feelings of this event exposed, your fury a vibrant bright thing. Dante wanted to see it unleashed, see it wild and not held back for the sake of their client and paycheck.   
“-If these monsters get in the way then they’ll only have reaped what they’ve sown.” Vergil’s own face was smug, and Dante wanted to slap it off him. The bastard had likely know your feelings sooner, your tension and disgust having been with you most of the night. His brother, getting to see your restraint your expressions, your rage and ire. Only now did Dante see it and feel his blood boil at the thought of how beautiful it was.   
How much it might reflect if you were under him as he fucked you to draw the demonic bastard out. 

“So if it does come to actual sex-“  
“ _Penetrative sex._ ” Vergil clarified.  
“Yeah penetrative sex you’re… okay with it?”

Your flushed face matched the rapid heartbeat he could now hear so close, something Vergil also likely heard.

“Yes.” Dante grinned as he let himself drape over you, face nestled perfectly between your breasts and allowing him to breathe in your scent. His hands roamed your sides, playfully running up and down, teasing the slit of the dress, feeling the slip of a garter belt and the edge of the sheer stockings your wore. Flimsy things he could rip open and break past. He wondered if your panties were also of such flimsy material, if he’d get to see, get to rip and tear them away to get as your core. To shove his face there and drink in the scent of your sex, to drink you, to feel those plush thighs pillow his head and hold him in place as he’d devour you until you’d weep and beg for him to stop, too overwrought to indulge his unyielding demonic hunger.

He wanted, even if he said he wouldn’t partake.

All in all, it was good you had the discussion, because as the three of you went below deck to ‘start the party’, Vergil and Dante both felt like they were walking a knife’s edge. They didn’t need to say or even talk about what boiled under the surface of their skin. They didn’t need share looks of understanding- they knew because they knew themselves. They knew their hunger. The lust and trepidation of crossing that line with you, the trust you placed in them both, such a precious gift, couldn’t be broken or squandered.

Vergil and Dante wanted you, they wanted to have you, make you want them in turn, show you how good they could be, would be, if you gave them what they secretly sought. 

By the time you three were below deck, Vergil and Dante both wanted to get it over with- kill the demon, get off the ship and get away from you. Not because they disliked you but more the fact they wanted- and as the lingering scent of sex and demonic energy rippled around them the harder it was to hide their desire. Cocks hard and pressed against their pants, highlighting their endowments, the promise of being filled and stretched wide to accommodate. Both men were above average, not inhuman, but enough that the looks a few of the ship patrons sent their way could easily be described as salivating. Vergil’s hands itched to grasp your own, to tangle fingers and pin you down as he’d rock into your body, purposeful strokes made to have you writhe and beg for more as your pussy would gush and cling to him begging for his seed. Dante’s own hands craved to grasp your hair, to pull your neck back and cover your throat in his mouth, sucking on salt kissed skin and feeling your pulse, your heartbeat on his tongue as he felt it around his cock, so deep inside your quivering snatch he’d mark it with his essence. 

And yet you smiled so coy, fingers hooking in the O ring of their collars, leading them ‘backstage’ to get ready for your performance. Your eyes half lidded in the low light, lips plump and worn from worried teeth, skin pink and flush with embarrassment, (hopeful desire), and while no human might know, the twin devils could scent the faintest traced of slick forming between your legs. A human reaction- a hope that their desires might take root in reality.

They both had to fight down their dark gaze as you trembled between them, hands fishing into their shirts to ground yourself, muttering that you were ready that you could do this, that the demon better die painfully and you better get paid extra.

Dante personally would give the entire paycheck to you if it meant he got to feel your hand touch his own again, feel your fingers twine with his and squeeze, asking for assurances and relaxing when you realized he gave it. He would pay you twice over to have the privilege of being the one to assure you, to have this trust in him so openly given. He relished in how your breath was deep, (could you smell their own desire, their aching, weeping tears of lust behind cotton and silk? Could you scent the demonic energy in the air, leeching into them, coaxing them to simple kill and take and have?), how you slipped into a mask of seductive confidence as the curtains of the stage drew up, revealing him, his brother and you, ready to pretend to be as debauched as the monsters that surrounded them.   
The half devil felt heat pooling low in his belly, coiling there as you trailed a finger from his collar down his chest, hooking into a belt loop to pull him towards the bed; Towards your body and the offerings of skin you granted his eyes and his hands when you smiled as reached up to run fingers though his hair while his own danced against the edges of your dress. 

Vergil was not so different, cold steel blue eyes gazing over you as your finger ran down his skin, unwillingly making his skin break out into gooseflesh, leaning towards the faint warmth your hand offered. His cock twitched behind his clothes as you looped a finger into his belt, tugging him, allowing him his greedy hungry stare at your backside, wondering how pretty it would look covered in marks. As his body reached the bedside he smiled like the devil he was, relishing the authoritative tone you took as your persona ordering him to strip. 

Dante was all flourish, exaggerated movements, flexing chorded muscle and sinew, showing off the scars and stories that they told. His smile the lackadaisical devil, the carefree man who would guard your body with a smile and then service you with simpering false sincerity.  
Vergil was methodical movements, each action precise and chosen with deliberation. Inches of skin slowly exposed, granting the audience decadence as his eyes were only for you- they were interlopers, his smile the one of wicked demons in the dark, of depraved lusts unspoken but with angelic reverence to you and your desires. 

Twin devils, reflections of not each other but of the contrast between them- of the way they might worship you and in turn find their own bliss in submission.

All to tantalize and tease an audience that called themselves humans but were no better than the devils and demons they summoned from hell. 

You remained in your dress as the Sparda twins stripped down, your own eyes locking with their own, trying to fight back the constant urge to look away, to hide your face and not stare at what they exposed. It wasn’t yours you told yourself, neither this nor them belonged to you, but the mask you wore, the story you three had woven now was made to be played out. A line was crossed- their cocks stood proud in the open air, faint sheens of moisture at the tips, glistening, betraying their own effected states and the unspoken truth of what simmered between you three- lust, desire, fear, apprehension, hope, supplication, sacrifice.  
Trust.

It was Vergil who you granted the gift of your touch, your tenderness and gentle grace. The lips his eyes lingered on so plush and warm on his own, the moan you ate was deep and his hands remained firm at his sides, the tension in them rolling off his skin in waves. He wanted to touch you, to hold you, to drink in the feeling of your body pressed to his own as your lips pushed to his, mouths closed. No saliva passed between you, no tongues tangled for a taste of wine drunk just minutes ago- it was a kiss of supplication, of assurance. 

You were in their hands as much as they were in your own- you would not betray the trust they’d given you, you’d not fail them in their job and allow it to fall apart. Vergil moaned into your kiss, and felt his cock drip as precome further formed, a trail slowly making it’s way down to his balls. 

The sound Dante made when you cupped his face to pull him down for his own kiss was more the whine of a dog- needy and wanting. His body thrummed in energy barely contained, his hands flexed as he leaned into the kiss openly, tilting his head, trying to slip his tongue forward, seeking a taste, the barest hint of what else was before him. A kiss of promise, of remind. This wasn’t real, wasn’t to be- an act, a farce, yet how sweet was the sin he craved to make it a reality. 

You sighed against each kiss, eyes meeting theirs, wanting to tell them you accepted them, this lust here and now, welcomed it, acknowledged it. It would become your weapon. You could not fight the demon that lurked on the ship- but you could fight this need between you three, you could fight the loss of control you all feared, you could fight to maintain this twisted trust forced and forged through what had once been only joked of.

“Come.” You moved onto the bed, and they followed, hunger marking them in how they moved.

Dante, all fluid and water, gliding over silken black sheets till he was on his belly, holding a leg gently, kissing each toe before he worked his way up your leg, ending at you knee, eyes holding your own, waiting for permission, waiting for more.  
Vergil, all coiled muscle of a cat, stalking you like a predator, circling till he was behind you, his chest flush to your back as he had his fill of your body heat, of your dress being the only barrier between him and the sweet ambrosia that was your skin. His hands at your hips, thumbs rubbing, soothing, grounding you as he looked out at the audience, dared them to look at what was his, to covet what he’d lay his claim to.

“My boys-“ You began, voice strong and certain, hiding the bubbling desire that pooled between your legs- desire Dante neared, inhaled deep of, wetting his lips in lewd appreciation. “Are so well behaved.” Your hands threaded through Dante’s hair, and though you didn’t see it, his eyelids fluttered, a gentle warmth suffusing him from the tender action. He drank it in, wanted it to linger and mourned the loss when it ended.

Dante would be your first choice- the more brazen and open with physical of the twins- A thing Vergil could accept you to expect and yet did nothing to damper his sour expression as he moved to the side, granting you full movement. In contrast Dante was the epitome of languid decadence. His body laying on black silk, ass firm and on display along with every other well trained muscle he possessed. His playful smile and bright blue eyes focused on you as he crawled up, sitting on the bed, legs spread over the edge, giving the audience a view of his raw desire, yet knowing they’d not see the spot he’d left on the silk.

He trusted Vergil to keep his eyes and ears open for the demon- he could afford a bit of distraction.

And distract him you did.

It started so faint. The ghost of a touch on his shoulders before your body met his back, breasts soft and molding against him as your arms snaked around, under his own, tracing his chest. Barely their, no pressure or permanence, your hands were that of display, showing him off, fingers guiding greedy eyes over the slopes and curve of muscle, over thick and gnarled scars. Up his neck where he wanted you to grab him, tighten a hold, choke him, cut his breath so he could feel his pulse in his very being.

The gasp he made as your hands cupped his face from behind, as your words brushed the shell of his ear.   
“I’ll take care of you.”

He didn’t know when his breath became deeper, when his limbs began to shake- yet every touch you made made him feel on fire. Your nails lightly ran over the skin of his chest, circling a nipple before brushing over it. No pinching, no teasing, ignored save for an accidental touch. He gasped and had to wet his lips as he yearned. He arched his body towards your hands, greedy as he was, begging for more. He could feel the demonic energy rise- he could feel your hands reach his hips.  
The moan he made as your hands held him there, as it was now you who grounded him, was loud.

Over and over you touched him, eventually moving to his side, stroking up and down his chest, eyes languid and soft, tenderness seeping from you like sugar he craved to sink his teeth into. Your lips came next. Soft traced of them against his neck, feeling his pulse thundering, Dante begging you with his eyes and the soft gasps he made to bite him, to mark him, to put pressure there, to hurt and take and give him so he could give back-

He nearly fell apart when you began to kiss down his shoulder, down his arm. The soft panting as you kissed his wrist, his palm. As each finger was given to your lips, a softness against calloused hands as if to remind him how weak you were, how breakable, how easy he could force more, take more, demand more- yet he gave it up for this. This sweet torture and agony of knowing only your gentleness, your softness, your steeled will as you put your fate and trust into his hands and unmade him with it. 

His hands fisted into the sheets , his legs spread wider, his cock was weeping, coating himself in precome, it hurt and yet he loved the pain. He wanted you, he wanted anything, everything you could give him.

“Dante.” You were at his side, pressed against him, breasts now bare to his gaze, dress pulled down and exposing you- his rage at the thought that others got to see, got to know your beauty, that they also got what was so tenderly offered up not for them but to him, for him.  
“My Dante.”

He shuddered as he came, his orgasm hard as he decorated his torso in ejaculate, as hot semen coated his torso and thighs, cock twitching with his heart as your lips met his own, tongue delving past his lips and finally, finally allowing him a taste. 

Never had he known such sweetness, never had he known how much he could crave something so tender, so soft and gentle and pure. He’d come, he’d realized. He’d come from nothing more than your kiss. His breath was heavy and his limbs felt heavier. He wanted to sink into the filthy sheets and pull you down with him, never allowing you to leave, never to go of the soft fingers that laced in his hands. He wanted to lay there and bask in your trust, in this silent promise of kindness and understanding and yearning for what you both wanted but wouldn’t indulge in having.

Vaguely he was aware he was shaking, boneless- arms pulled him back onto the bed properly and Vergil looked down at him with something he couldn’t rightly put on his brother’s face. It wasn’t just jealousy- it was hope. Longing for what he now knew and had experienced. His brother, so stoic wore his want clear in his face as he looked to you and Dante smiled to himself, allowing his body to come back together, to come back from that hazy place his orgasm had taken him. It was his turn now he knew- he had to watch now, had to be ready to kill the demon when it finally made itself known. Propped up on pillows he was allowed full view of this brother and you, view of their interlopers that made up the audience-

It was Vergil’s turn to be made undone by you, to feel the gift that was your trust and your tenderness, and unlike his sibling he could share at least for a time.

As you pulled Vergil to the front of the bed, to face the audience your hands were still so shy, so timid, so clean and cautious and conscientious. Ever respecting his boundaries, mindful of his usual stance on touch, on such fleeting interactions. Yet he couldn’t help the green envy, the brewed vinegar he had made while watching you and Dante. It was not unlike worship, how you treated his body, how you carefully maintained control as you coaxed him to release. The humans thrummed in their greed, in their baser thoughts, no doubt thinking he would take you, that he might have the luck to sink into your cunt and fill you up till his seed dripped down your thighs. 

He wouldn’t- not unless you begged, not unless you offered him with sincerity would he dare accept such a thing.

Sitting as Dante had been he expected the same treatment, the same feeling of you at his back, displaying him, showing him off as you coaxed his body to melt into your hold, as you asked for his trust to be placed in your hands.  
He did not expect your lips on his knuckles, kissing them one by one, your eyes half lidden, a hidden question behind them. Did he want more? Vergil could only smirk and push against you, thumb running up to hold your face before slipping past your lips.   
The soft ‘ahh’ you made set him alight as tongue swirled around his digit, coating it with saliva, warming the flesh and letting him feel what he might have wrapped around his cock later in the night. Your hands on his, pulling back with a wet pop, licking each finger on his hand before a kiss to his palm. He tested the waters, pushing back once more, two fingers, longer, deeper into your welcoming mouth. Laved, sucked, licked and covered till slick. When he pulled them free the thin strand of spit connected his hand to those lips briefly and he wanted to taste you, kiss you without kissing you.

He sucked his fingers clean, he sighed out loud as faint traces of wine still marked your mouth. 

You smiled at him, relaxing, tension leaving you as you accepted his admission, his permission- you would take now, take what trust he’d given , offered, asking only for like in kind. How wonderful it was to see a brightness, a playfulness in your eyes as you pulled up your dress, peeling it away. Lace bralette that once cupped your breasts unhooked and tossed aside, bare stomach, so soft, just enough give to have shape and to hint at how welcoming and well your body would take to virile seed. Your hips wide and perfect to grab and hold as you’d be fucked open, the perfect width to accommodate birth of a child from his loins. 

You had a body made to be bred, to be fucked and filled and owned.

The pale grey panties you wore had a faint wetness at the front, your garter belt holding them in place along with stockings he wanted the pleasure of peeling off of you. 

Vergil inhaled deep as the scent of lust hit him, as demonic energy grew in the room, heralding a demon’s arrival. If the demon interrupted now, he was fairly sure he’d change into a devil himself- he wanted to savor this, savor your body exposed before him and his gaze, to know you offered this to him- to be the first to feel naked body to his, to feel your weight as you stradled his hips, wet clothes core so near his aching cock he could feel the heat of it. 

“Hey.” You whispered, holding his face in your hands, eyes catching, a knowing look in your hold as he fought to shield you from his racing, hungry thoughts of devouring you whole.   
“Stay with me okay?” A silent plea, you kissed down his body, dragging your skin over his, nails raking down his chest making him grip black sheets to hold back his need to grab and twist your hair, to shove your face to his cock and feel you encase him in tight wetness.

He could only groan as you kissed his torso, tongue licking sweaty skin and tasking him before going further, dancing fingertips at the v of his hips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. Before you looked like a saint giving benediction to a savior. Your hands lifting his leg, kissing his ankle, his calf, the inside of his knee, his thigh, nuzzling a spot there before resting your head so close to him. So close he could feel your breath. 

Your teeth biting down, a light pressure enough to redden his skin and make his gasp and moan at the sight, the feeling. It was so much, almost too much. Your lips back at his mouth, hovering there, breathing in his sighs and moans as you stroked his sides like he wished you would stroke his cock. You nuzzled behind his ear as your hand rested on his chest, soothing his heartbeat, trying to tame it’s frantic pulse as he tore silk in his hands, as the audience murmured, wanting more but you adamantly refused to yield to them.

His mind was trying to catch up to every sensation, every single motion, letting him commit it to memory, letting him linger in it’s feeling before it faded away like you would come dawn. He wanted to embrace you, hold you, worship you in silent prayer as you traced the paths of his body, his blood and veins and licked over his heart, nipping the skin there, another mark, another gift to ground him remind him how you were so weak yet you were not helpless. No. Never helpless, a foolish idea he quickly discarded as you hummed into the crook of his arm, holding his hand that had ripped sheets to your face as it it couldn’t rip your skin just as easily. You were anything but helpless. You were steel and fire- iron forged from a test made to tame you. You rose against a devil in human skin and asked, not demanded his trust as you gave your own over to him.

He could kill you, he should kill you. You brought him here, like this, nude, exposed, trembling as his body leaned into each kiss, as you coaxed his mouth to gasp your name while you did nothing but hold his hand and squeeze it so softly as assurance. You brought him here, to this weakness he hadn’t known he possessed.

“Vergil.” Your eyes so soft and delicate, so kind and concerned. 

He should have killed you before you unmade him, his orgasm coming in a rippling shout of broken lust. White strands landing on his skin, burning reminders, evidence of his loss of control. He should have killed you as you kissed the wetness from his eyes, as you whispered his name over and over, as your hand finally touched him. Soft and warm and gentle you stroked him once, twice, made him shake and tremble and keen as you sent him hurtling towards a white abyss behind his eyelids. Death was too kind a fate he decided. Death would let your escape his wrath, his fury- death would end any chance to show you his strength, show you that he’d not be undone by this, not be brought so low.

You pumped his cock again and his back bowed, falling onto the bed and ripping silk further, the tearing sound loud and ringing in his ears as he felt hot sperm coat his chest. Your hand worked him over and over, a steady pace that drew him back from the white void his body would vanish to for moments before back in his body, fighting for control. You ripped it from him, made him scream as his hips bucked into nothing, as he came and he could only try to stay afloat as his body became boneless as the power to fight vanished under the unassuming hands of a woman he barely knew.

His breathing was ragged, his heart echoed, thundered in his ears as you kissed the edge of his lips. As you kissed his chest, over his heart. Did you taste him there? He felt like his seed now decorated him fully, that no part of him was left untouched, unmarked by his own lusts. Did his taste please you? He hoped it did, he hoped you liked it. He hoped you’d taste him again and again and one day he’d get to feel you swallow him down and thank him for it.

Vergil felt your thumbs wipe away his tears as the audience applauded, as they cheered, as they demanded more- demanded your defilement, your own delicate unmaking.

Never. He’d kill them all. You were something so precious, so wonderful and good- to him, for him. He’d kill them before he’d ever allow it. You owed him- you’d unmade him, brought him so low, created a weakness in his defenses- you would never be unmade by him. To unmake you would be agony. To adore you, to worship you, to make you suffer this same indignity, the same weakness would be the only punishment fitting for you. A punishment only he could give, would be allowed to give.

Dante might have tasted you first, but Vergil would kill him too before he would grant his brother permission, (he’d have you if you wanted him. You having Dante was your choice, would be his agony and his reward for wanting to hurt you so. It would only be right, only be kinder to allow his brother to partake and know the power you held over him. Maybe then Dante to would be just as weak, maybe he’d break just as much.). 

He rose from the bed and crawled up your body, feeling you relaxed, pliant under his touch. So trusting, so willing- he kissed you soft as he dared, growled when Dante turned your face from his to steal a kiss from you in kind.

Drops of dried seed were scattered on your body, you stockings and panties intact if damp with desire. He wanted to tear into them, rip them apart, spread you, devour you-

Dante beat him to it, his face buried against your mound, making you squeal in surprise as his brother lapped at you covered core, as he pulled the flimsy material to the side so he could show you the greed of a devil.

Vergil held you still as you writhed, as you cried out and came over Dante’s face, as Dante sucked your clit and rolled it on his tongue till you shook, trembling as they’d been. Dante looked up and saw your expression. Tears in your eyes, red faced and flush with equal desire and shame. Your lip bitten to hold back your screams and yet your hands tangled in Vergil’s hair, holding him close, hips rocking into Dante face in a silent plea for more.

He laughed as he pulled back, the wet sound of your panties slapping against your skin.

“Beautiful.” He whispered. “You’re beautiful when you cry.”

“Yes.” Vergil licked a tear, savoring the salty brine, wanting to drink them away, make more. See you cry as they fucked you into your oblivion. “It really is the best expression you can make.”

Their pleasure at your tear stained face didn’t last long. The creepy demonic energy now swirling around them, ready for blood, for the final step before it would manifest.

“Say it-“  
“Say it for us-“  
“Tell us what you need-“  
“What you want-“  
“Say it.”  
“Say it.”

They needed you to take the step, to place your trust in their hands, to give yourself over to them completely, to let them have you entirely.

You screamed as the demon rose from the audience, coated in blood and gore. The sacrifice of sex replaced by one of blood.

The Sparda twins made quick work of dispatching the demon. Neither wishing to admit their rage at not being able to have that last bit of yourself that you held onto until the very end.

In the end, the ship made landfall to squadrons of police. Taken into custody, no doubt some would post bail and escape. As far as the job went, the demon was killed, the missing persons no doubt used for a sacrifice mid sex. They’d get paid in full, as the dead humans had been the demon’s work, not their own.

Truthfully, as you gave your statement to the police officer present, Vergil mused how well you might accept it if he killed the humans who sought to evade justice as a gift. Would your human morals decry him, or would the woman with the steel will and fire eyes welcome his gift with a sweet smile of understanding? Dante thought only how well you matched them, how you even know could hide among the human throng, hiding the power you wielded so carelessly. Your tender touch, your gentle smile, your wicked torture when given too much power over another. You were a threat if only they knew.

You had tamed him, coaxed them both into a subtle subjugation neither wanted yet still welcomed. It made Dante wonder just how powerful that made you- the woman who would command the ruler of hell and it’s bane all with the same smile and same gentle hands. 

“Verg.” Dante looked at his brother, noting how he was likely planning on who of the humans in custody to kill first once they got paid. He might have denied it, but even his stoic human hating sibling didn’t abide some things. “You know we’re going to have to share right?”  
His brother’s glare was cold and threatening. He shouldn’t push it but-

“We won’t be sharing.” It would end in a fight- which would be a first. They had fought over everything in their lives, a woman would be no different. “She will be sharing with us.”

Dante nearly choked on his own tongue. “What-“

“Do you really think we have her? That after what happened, could you really say we control the outcome?” Ice blue met it’s twin as Vergil held Dante’s gaze. “She gave us our trust and we gave her our own.” He paused. “A mistake.”

The duo watched you nod and recount events on the ship, abet, edited to corroborate their story. How guileless you seemed, how lacking in ambition. Yet there they stood, brought low to your whim, made weak by your mercy.

“Think she’ll keep us?”  
“…” He didn’t expect Vergil to answer. “She will.”

Dante smirked at that. You had tasted power after all, and while he’d not been on the majority of the receiving end of it, he saw the looks between you and Vergil, the looks you passed to him as you made his brother cry out and collapse, lost in the haze of his own pleasure. You held power over them now. That much was achingly true. 

“Dante.” His brother broke Dante’s thoughts, and he saw you had moved to stand by the car, waiting them both, a tender look on your face.   
“…She has no idea does she?” You commanded them without uttering a single thing. You, a woman who they’d asked a favor, now was repaid with the powers that could fell the mortal world if you wanted it. 

“She doesn’t.” Vergil walked to your side and without asking, laced his fingers into your own before letting go, getting in the driver’s seat without a word.

Dante laughed as he got in the back, grinning like a fool. He bumped his hip to your own and got a muted chuckle in response. 

Dante watched as you got in, smiling, content and serene. You trusted them, gave it freely, openly. You took their trust and showed them how tender you held it, how close you protected it, cherished it, respected and welcomed it.

In exchange you unmade them, remade them. They had become broken, boneless things that you had brought back from nothing. You trusted them.  
They were helpless. What was left for them to do in wake of your power? Your honest heart?

Both men held a smile to themselves, knowing the only thing they could do to repay you was give you their hearts in kind.

**Author's Note:**

> I was feral for emotionally and intimacy vulnerable Vergil and Dante when I wrote this and I think it shows


End file.
